There’s amon misconception that pervades the world.


    It’s the belief that opportunity onlyes when you’re fully prepared for it, that you’ll walk down a red carpet, ready to sit on a throne prepared just for you. Many think they’ll be ready when the timees, but that’s just an illusion.


    The truth, though less widely acknowledged, is that opportunities often present themselves in every moment of decision, and people frequently forget that.


    It didn’t take me long to realize this.


    <strong>-[Notification: Please select your visitor badge type.]</strong>


    I was standing in front of a ck building simr to the one I’d seen in Yeouido. Koreans referred to it as “Yeouido’s Jelly,” but here in New York, it was dubbed the "Dark Chocte Bar." The name was as direct as it was amusing.


    Despite being aware of the illusion, I couldn’tpletely avoid falling for it myself. I had expected something dramatic, something momentous to await me. But as I watched the countless Icarus employees rushing about in preparation for the Final Championship, I started to wonder if I had misunderstood the nature of my visit.


    Still...


    <strong>…</strong>


    Even that thought might just be another fleeting misconception.


    I gently ced my finger on the kiosk in front of me, clearing my mind of distractions. Unlike in Korea, the process here at headquarters was more unconventional. Visitors were required to create a one-time badge based on the purpose of their visit. I’d heard there were many ways to issue these badges, but today, I had a different path ahead of me.


    I pulled up a holographic message. It contained a series of instructions, codes, and keywords sent through the official Icarus International email, including a code I had received 40 minutes ago. Following these, I unlocked a new ess route that hadn’t existed in the kiosk''s system before.


    A few tapster, I input my personal authentication code.


    Then, suddenly—


    <strong>─Whirrr!</strong>


    <strong>“…There was something after all.”</strong>


    I watched as a small round scanner emitted a redser, clearly designed for authentication. The only thing I could offer it was the device strapped to my wrist.


    <strong>-[Notification: ICARUS GEAR // Authenticating…]</strong>


    <strong>-[Notification: Authenticationplete. Visitor badge issued. Please activate the augmented reality function of your lens.]</strong>


    Of course.


    I blinked, and a hologram spread out before me, scanning the unique visitor badge that had just been issued. As new information appeared on the disy, it guided me along the path I needed to take.


    I carefully hung the badge around my neck, itsnyard neatly provided, and then approached the automatic ss doors. The moment I swiped my badge, a green light signaled my clearance.


    I didn’t pay it much attention.


    My focus was on whaty beyond.


    <strong>─Ding!</strong>


    <strong>“...Well, isn’t this convenient?”</strong>


    Right on cue, the elevator arrived and its doors opened. The sleek, modern walls bore a panel for scanning keycards and buttons indicating the building’s various floors.


    However, when I ced my badge against the panel, the elevator began descending toward the basement instead of any upper level. It was almost cliché in its execution.


    The descent didn’t take long. When the doors opened, I found myself in front of an unmanned checkpoint. The area seemed abandoned, covered in dust and with no signs of recent human presence.


    <strong>Beep!</strong>


    The gate opened with a mechanical click, revealing what appeared to be a solid wall. With a deep rumble, the wall began to shift, sliding open like the entrance to a secretir. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the dramatic ir.


    The hidden wall didn’t close behind me as I stepped through. I guessed it would remain open as long as someone was inside.


    Walking down the short corridor, I mentally reviewed the fragmented pieces of information I’d gathered about Icarus and the Dark Zone over time.


    Rumors about stolen AI control, whispers of ndestine updates—wild, sci-fi-level stuff. At first, it sounded like typical conspiracy theory nonsense. But if those rumors came from the upper echelons—be it political or economic—then they carried a weight that couldn’t be ignored.


    When the context shifts, so do the stakes. What was once idle gossip bes a truth that must remain hidden.


    Eventually, I reached another solid wall, identical to the one at the kiosk. The scanner on the wall indicated that nothing could stop me from proceeding.


    <strong>─Grind!</strong>


    The wall slid open, revealing a vast, dark, spherical chamber. Scanning with my Icarus Gear, I estimated the space to be about 130 meters in diameter.


    Suddenly, floating tforms emerged from the ground. No digital systems seemed involved—pure levitation. And just like that, my Icarus Gear went dark. The clock that could function in any condition had just shut down.


    That was when I realized—I was about to confront memories I had never shared with anyone.


    As the chamber brightened slightly, I slowly approached the mainframe at its center. I knew they could hear me, so I spoke, breaking the silence.


    <strong>"AI, huh? You’re really going to hide behind such a flimsy excuse?"</strong>


    The ones who had brought me back to this ce. The ones who were waiting.


    Their response appeared in letters suspended in the air.


    <strong>-[<----> : Wee.]</strong>


    <strong>-[<----> : It’s been a while since Indian Point, hasn’t it?]</strong>


    I wasn’t sure if they would answer, but this was the moment to ask the questions I had been holding onto for so long.


    At the end of the chamber was a single chair, prepared just for me.


    I sat down cautiously, taking a moment to organize my thoughts. Silence filled the space. There were so many questions. My mind felt tangled before I even began speaking. It was almostughable how my head throbbed before I could even ask my first question.


    After several deep breaths, I managed to sort through the chaotic thoughts. Slowly, rity returned as the first concrete questions began to form.


    Looking directly at the central camera on the mainframe, I opened my mouth.


    <strong>"It was you who saved me, wasn’t it?"</strong>


    <strong>-[<----> : Yes.]</strong>


    Of course.


    Hearing the confirmation, the once foggy images of that harrowing day at Indian Point began to crystallize. It was they who had saved me from the brink of death during the nuclear disaster.


    As the memories solidified, a dozen more questions simmered in the back of my mind, but there was one thing I needed to say before anything else.


    I raised my head and met the central screen''s gaze, my voice sincere.


    <strong>"Thank you. Truly."</strong>


    <strong>-[<----> : I’m d to hear that. It’s good to see you so much moreposed than before. However…]</strong>


    <strong>"However?"</strong>


    <strong>-[<----> : It’s still a bit early to be thanking us. There’s a lot left unresolved, and I’m sure you have many questions as well, don’t you?]</strong>


    <strong>"…Yes."</strong>


    The truth was undeniable.


    What exactly were Icarus and the Dark Zone? Why had this happened to me? What did it really mean to be an "Awakener"? So many questions. I felt like I could beg these people for answers all day long.


    But it seemed they understood that.


    A calm voice emerged from the speakers, the sound both pleasant and disarming.


    <strong>-[<----> : Answering those questions is part of why we’re here today. I hope this conversation will help clear up some of your doubts.]</strong>


    The sound of pages flipping apanied the voice.


    Then, in a clear tone, they continued with an unexpected revtion.


    <strong>-[<----> : By now, I’m sure you’ve wondered ‘why’ the Dark Zone game even exists, but before we get into that, let me exin why you became involved in the first ce.]</strong>


    <strong>-[<----> : Eugene, you are one of the most prominent victims of a “collision of worldlines.” The inexplicable events you’ve experienced can only be exined by this phenomenon.]</strong>


    <strong>"…Worldline collisions?"</strong>


    <strong>-[<----> : Do you recall the day your body first changed? The series of logically impossible events that followed?]</strong>


    I remembered.


    It was like a nightmare—the day I was suddenly thrown into a foreign metropolis with no warning. One moment, I was asleep at home; the next, I woke up on the frozen streets of an empty New York in the dead of winter.


    The cold that made me retch, the eerie, abandoned streets, the strange, monstrous tail that had grown from my body. And, of course, the bizarre, multicolored lightning shing beyond the Brooklyn Bridge.


    That horrific scene was carved into my memory, never to fade.


    If their exnation was correct… that must have been the result of a worldline collision.


    My head pounded with the effort of making sense of it, but no other answer seemed possible. Something so illogical could only have a simrly illogical exnation.


    Yet there was something even more important to ask.


    <strong>"So, you’re saying it waspletely unpredictable?"</strong>


    <strong>-[<----> : Unfortunately, yes. Even our department didn’t have the capability to prevent the collision. We could only clean up afterward.]</strong>


    Completely unpredictable. In other words, I had just been unlucky. The reason I had spent nearly five years walking through hell boiled down to sheer bad luck.


    It was an infuriatingly convenient exnation.


    But…


    <strong>"If I had heard this back when I first returned, I think I would’ve been mentally shaken."</strong>


    But I wasn’t, not now.


    Why was that? Maybe it was because of the small medal still hanging around my neck, the one that represented my pride. Or maybe it was because of myrades, waiting for me outside this building. Or my students, eagerly awaiting my return just a few kilometers away.


    It hadn’t even been a few months since I’de back, and while I still carried the scars of trauma and PTSD, both mentally and physically, I didn’t feel fragile.


    And—


    <strong>"Thankfully, that’s not the case now. I’ve experienced a lot since then. My past hasn’t been denied, and I’ve already been rewarded for my efforts—both materially and emotionally."</strong>


    The weight of the medal at my neck was the weight of pride.


    From the moment I set foot in the U.S., my past had caught up with me in the form of old connections, and ever since, I’d found the strength to endure everything, even the cold, bitter winds of my memories.


    I steeled myself. No, I <em>had</em> to. I hade here to hear these truths.


    Sitting firmly in the chair, I felt a new sense of resolve. Almost as if they could sense it, the voice over the speaker continued, relieved.


    <strong>-[<----> : I’m d you’vee to terms with this. It was difficult to bring up.</strong>


    <strong>"There’s still a long road ahead. I can’t afford to stop now."</strong>


    I thought I heard a faint chuckle from the other end.


    The atmosphere had lightened, and now, the countless questions I had locked away began to resurface. But I already knew the first thing I had to ask.


    A clue I’d gathered from Loren Tina’s remarks.@@novelbin@@


    <strong>"I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the term ‘worldline synchronization.’"</strong>


    A brief silence.


    But I continued. The scattered fragments of my thoughts began to coalesce, forming arger, more coherent idea.


    I dismissed unnecessary questions and focused on the core issue.


    The most important thing was that the term “worldline synchronization” had appeared twice, and each time, the world around me had changed. That was a critical point.


    When Ipleted the main mission, the term first appeared. And with it, memories of another world began to surface in people’s minds. That was the first synchronization.


    But—


    <strong>"After Ipleted the first Incursion scenario, the term appeared again when I least expected it."</strong>


    At first, I hadn’t thought much of it.


    But Loren Tina’sment had opened a door in my mind, and the logic that had once seemed vague now rushed forward with newfound rity.


    It was simple—the other world didn’t just affect this one. What if the reverse were true as well?


    There had been several Incursion scenarios, but their chronological arrangement pointed to a single truth: In a few more scenarios, I would be heading back to where it all began—Indian Point Nuclear Power nt.


    In other words, the second worldline synchronization would likelyplete when I finished that mission.


    If my theory was correct,


    If Ipleted that mission,


    Then—


    <strong>-[<----> : …You’re thinking that Incursion scenarios don’t just depict the past, but they could also influence the other world through missions set in the future, aren’t you?]</strong>


    <strong>-[<----> : Correct. It’s possible.</strong>


    The moment that was confirmed, I let out a short gasp—if that were true, then I could also begin to understand the true nature of the Dark Zone.


    This wasn’t just a game. It was a conduit between two worlds, a junction point that allowed them to observe each other.


    I spoke cautiously, but with certainty, locking eyes with the central camera.


    <strong>"The Dark Zone isn’t just a game, is it? It’s more like a portal, connecting two worlds and serving as a way to observe both. Isn’t that right?"</strong>


    Silence followed.


    But I knew instinctively that this was the correct answer.


    That exined how the Dark Zone had been able to so urately portray a world that no one should have remembered and how it had managed to indirectly pass on those forgotten memories.


    And then, a voice from the speakers responded.


    I smiled and added, softly:


    <strong>"Looks like I’ll be staying here a bit longer."</strong>


    The conversation wasn’t over.


    There were still many things I needed to hear.